Into the Woods
by Artemis9
Summary: Another story about Steve and Jesse trying to relax in the wilderness (kind of a follow-up to "Once Bitten" and "Twice Shy", which you needn't have read, though). This time, work has chosen to follow Steve. ** R for violence and bad language.


Disclaimer: The characters taken from DM belong to CBS and Viacom, respectively to their inventors. I'm not making any money with this story, it's purely written for entertainment.  
  
Feedback: appreciated.  
  
  
  
*In to the Woods*  
  
  
  
„Hey Jesse", Steve called cheerfully as he steered towards his friend.  
  
Jesse backed away, holding a file in front of himself like a shield. "Oh no", he said. "What do I have to do to make myself clear? I said no, and you won't talk me into changing my opinion."  
  
"Oh pal", said Steve and laid an arm around Jesse's shoulder. "I would never try to make you do something you don't want to do."  
  
Jesse's relieved smile faded when the grasp around him grew tight as a vice, and Steve continued, "but I'm sure you will change your opinion when you see this." He pulled the file out of Jesse's hand and gave him a colourfully illustrated brochure instead. "Glacier National Park in Montana", he raved. "Can there be a better place for a long hike? Deep forests, crystal clear lakes practically made for fishing, and the most beautiful sunrise in the world."  
  
"Sunrise. You mean, you want to drag me into the woods again, and you even expect me to get up before daylight - in my week off? Forget it!"  
  
Steve realized that it was better to let go of him for the moment and instead blocked Jesse's way. "Come on, don't tell me you're still angry because of that little accident with the snake?"  
  
"You call that a little accident? May I remind you that I nearly died from that bite? And I can't believe that you actually want to go on a camping trip again when you returned from the last one with a broken leg!"  
  
"Don't forget the wounds caused by the barbeque fork", Steve grinned. "But these were extraordinary circumstances. Nobody could have foreseen that things like these would happen."  
  
Jesse pressed his index finger against Steve's chest. "And that's why I won't go with you again. A camping trip is like a call for accidents to happen. Which mentally sane person would voluntarily live in the wilderness for a week, surrounded by potentially deadly plants and wild animals only waiting for a careless moment to attack and kill?"  
  
"You mean, like attacking poison ivy? Walking shrubs with giant teeth?" Steve's grin grew even broader.  
  
"Ha-ha. You know what I mean. Why should I leave the safety and comfort of the civilized world and wash myself in a freezing cold river instead? What might be the incentive for me to repeat our last outdoors experience? The chance to really get killed this time maybe?"  
  
"Freedom, Jesse", Steve insisted. "Just imagine - the two of us roaming through the woods, no bounds or limits, no thoughts of work, no stress."  
  
"Freedom", Jesse mocked his friend's enthusiastic tone. "The two of us against the forces of nature, no sorrow except from the daily struggle to survive. No thoughts of work because we'll never return home to work again."  
  
"Why do you always have to be so negative? Can't you just give it another try?" Steve looked at Jesse so innocently that he almost would have given in, but then the mud-covered slope they had slid down in that memorable night appeared in front of his inner eye.  
  
"No", he said firmly. "But hey, I believe we have some suicidal patients in the psychiatric unit. You might want to ask one of them."  
  
"Okay", Steve said and took the brochure back. "Good. I just wanted to do you a favour, give you the opportunity to take a break from the daily stress in the hospital, but if you don't want to, I'll do that trip on my own. Have fun with whatever you'll do in the next week."  
  
"Thanks", Jesse replied. "I'll be sitting in front of my TV set, watching re-runs of my favourite shows and eating something which will definitely push my cholesterol level to new heights. Maybe chips, nachos, or a nice sandwich with ham, bacon, tomatoes, eggs, *and* chips, you know, all those pretty, fancy things you won't have when you're sitting on a trunk in the middle of nowhere."  
  
"Got it", Steve said sulkily. "Well, then I'll have a nice week in the mountains while you enjoy your boredom at home. I'll drive on Monday morning. You have the whole weekend to change your mind, but then I'm off to Montana - no chance to join me then. Don't say I didn't warn you." With that, he turned around and went towards the exit.  
  
Jesse shook his head and started studying his file again. Never would Steve make him repeat this awful experience!  
  
* * *  
  
"Boring - boring - boring." Jesse held the remote control with one hand and aimlessly zapped through the channels while he was lying on his couch. "Boring -hey, this looks - oh, boring. Oh boy, one more day like this, and I'll go insane." He checked his watch: 3pm.  
  
His gaze was caught by the telephone. Silently it stood there, waiting to receive a call. Or to send one out.  
  
Fascinated, Jesse watched his hand as it hovered over the receiver. He had no idea how it had gotten there. He moved his fingers, as if to check if he still had control over them. Then he pulled his hand back. He wouldn't give Steve the satisfaction to call him up - not yet.  
  
With a thoughtful sigh, he leaned back. Should he really take the risk and venture another camping trip with Steve? Another look at the flickering TV screen gave him the answer to this question.  
  
He typed one number after another, and each time he pressed a key on the phone, he uttered one disjointed syllable. "I - know - this - is - a - ter - ri - ble - mis - take -", the number was dialled, and a low beep sounded from the receiver, "and I should better stay at home. I don't know why I'm doing -"  
  
"Sloan?"  
  
"Hi Steve, this is Jesse."  
  
"Jesse, my friend." Jesse could practically hear him grin. "Is there anything I can do for you?"  
  
"Yes. Promise that we'll both return home in one piece. No snakes, other wild animals or poisonous plants. No such weather kindnesses as sudden thunderstorms, hail, sleet, snow, and especially no natural disasters."  
  
"The one thing you will definitely be safe from is earthquakes. This I promise, and as for the other things - well, I'll protect you to the best of my abilities. If there's the faintest trace of danger, we'll immediately pack our bags and head for the city."  
  
"Doesn't sound too encouraging. Oh well, okay. I'll go with you - even though I don't have a clue why I'm doing this. You can fetch me on Monday, I'll be ready."  
  
"Fine. We'll have a great week."  
  
* * *  
  
Steve hung up, his teeth glistening in the light of the afternoon sun.  
  
Mark came from the kitchen, holding two cups of coffee in his hands. He passed one to Steve and regarded him.  
  
"Son", he said, "if your ears weren't in the way, you'd grin in circles. What's so funny?"  
  
"I had given him time until Sunday. I really hadn't thought he'd call me only three hours after his shift was over."  
  
Mark smiled. "Go easy on him", he said. "He's a marvellous young surgeon, but if you take him into the woods, he's literally lost. Guide him and show him how things work out there, and once he gets the principle of the thing, he'll probably love it just as much as we do."  
  
"So what about you? You really don't want to come with us?"  
  
"Oh Steve, I'd love to. But you know what it's like - I have so much work to do. Right now, I'm really busy with that railroad killer case -"  
  
"The one I didn't want to hear a word about", Steve interrupted him. "I'll certainly sleep a lot better if I needn't wonder where you might be sticking your nose into again."  
  
"My lips are sealed", Mark replied, an amused smile on his face. "Just leave those criminals alone for a week, Amanda and I will keep Los Angeles clean while you're away."  
  
"Thanks Dad." Steve sighed. "Wish us luck."  
  
* * *  
  
When he approached the small figure standing on the sidewalk in the light of the morning sun with all the luggage standing beside him, he knew it had been a bad idea to ask Jesse to join him.  
  
He pulled the car over, climbed out and regarded his friend.  
  
"Are you serious about this?" he asked. "I'm not asking what you have in that giant backpack, but what are you going to do with your guitar on a camping trip?"  
  
Jesse returned a defiant look. "Ever heard about something called campfire? You said you liked the adventurous touch, and I think when sitting around the fire, a few songs will be nice."  
  
"Do you tell me that you want the two of us to sing?"  
  
"Don't look at me like that. You needn't sing, and if you don't want me to, I won't, either. But I will take my guitar with me."  
  
"Okay, as long as you carry it. But now hurry up, we have to catch a flight."  
  
"Another mystery I'll never be able to solve. Why do you want to go on a camping trip but take a plane to get there?"  
  
Steve sighed mildly. "If we went there by car, we'd waste 4 of our 7 days only for the ride. I don't know about you, but I want to spend my week off in the woods and not in the car."  
  
"Yeah okay. Well then, let's go and have an adventurous week out in the wilderness."  
  
* * *  
  
Mark sat in the doctor's lounge brooding over a file when Amanda entered the room.  
  
"Same results as with the first five victims", she said. "A clean stab right into the heart, with a knife whose blade is one and a half inches wide and probably about six inches long."  
  
"Quite a small weapon", Mark replied. "He must know what he's doing."  
  
"Or she", answered Amanda. "The wounds were so exact that the killer must have good knowledge in human anatomy, and if you know what you have to do, you must only be fast, not strong, to surprise your victim and hit the right spot. The entry angle suggests an assault from slightly below, but this doesn't necessarily mean that the killer was smaller than his victim. It might just have been the right angle depending on his position."  
  
"Any clues concerning left- or right-handedness?" Mark wanted to know.  
  
"It was a bit difficult, but regarding the form of the knife's blade, our killer most likely is left-handed."  
  
Mark let out a relieved sigh. "That's our first useful trace", he said. "It doesn't narrow the search down considerably, but at least we now know that we are looking for a left-handed person who possibly doesn't own a driver's license, and whose job might have him travel around a lot. If he has a job."  
  
"All those 'could's and 'might's don't really cheer me up", Amanda said. "It's a pity that the killer didn't leave any other traces at the crime scenes."  
  
"Considering that the crime scenes were moving trains, it's almost a miracle that we don't have more. After all, three of the six corpses were found when the train was right between two stations, and despite that, we don't even have a suspect."  
  
"Did you find any other similarities between the murders?"  
  
Mark shoved the file over to her. "It's only the procedure and the place. Six times a stab in the heart, six times a sleeping car that belonged to an Amtrak train. And the killer seems to have stayed in California."  
  
"Remind me to move to the East coast next time somebody asks me to."  
  
Mark smiled. "You did last time, and we're all really glad to have you back."  
  
"Yes, so am I. Oh well, what else did I become a medical examiner for?" Amanda sighed. "Let's have another look at this."  
  
Mark pointed at a sheet of paper. "We have four people who booked tickets for all six rides. It's amazing how some people get around."  
  
"Are the police already checking on them?"  
  
"With the sixth victim lying on a slab in the path lab, I do hope they are. Seriously, until yesterday, we had seven people to choose from, then murder number six excluded three of them. It's a shame that Steve isn't around. It's easier to access information when he can call me up as soon as he has something."  
  
"Oh yes, the camping trip." Amanda grinned. "Did he really take Jesse with him?"  
  
"Yes, they left this morning. I don't know whom I should be more worried about."  
  
Amanda chuckled. "For one of them, it will be a remarkable experience. Or maybe they'll even both have fun."  
  
"Yes, who knows."  
  
* * *  
  
"%§*#§%&$ car!" Steve kicked against a tyre.  
  
"I don't believe I have heard this word before", Jesse said with a grin. "Why are you so upset anyway? Didn't you want to do some hiking?"  
  
"Yes, but I hadn't planned to leave the car right behind the park entry. They call this a jeep? This wreck wouldn't have made the way to the next workshop!"  
  
"Cool it, Steve. The Rangers know what's up, and they will tow it to the parking lot. We could wait until it's repaired."  
  
"We'd lose a whole day. No way. Get your stuff, we're heading for Bowman Lake. If we make good pace, we should arrive there by tomorrow."  
  
"Hey, you won't make me run with all that weight on my back."  
  
"Nobody told you to take half of your apartment with you. If you let me have a look at what you're carrying with you, I can sort everything out you won't need."  
  
Jesse stepped backward, a defiant look on his face. "No, thanks. Anything you sort out, I'll miss tomorrow. Let's just get going, I promise I won't complain."  
  
Steve mumbled something that sounded like "yeah sure", took his light jacket off and stuffed it into his backpack. Then he heaved it on his back, adjusted the straps around his waist and shoulders, glanced at his compass and map and marched towards the trees.  
  
Jesse hurried to join him, and side by side, they walked through the woods, enjoying the warm summer sun.  
  
* * *  
  
Steve had to admit that he had underestimated his friend. Just because Jesse didn't like being in the woods very much, this didn't mean he wasn't in shape. Without complaining or asking for a break, he carried his backpack and guitar while walking on the rocky ground amid firs and pine trees.  
  
Around noon, they paused on a clearing and sat in silence for a while watching birds and squirrels. They hadn't seen any bigger animals yet, although the rangers had warned them not to get too close to black and grizzly bears as well as Mountain Lions which had recently been sighted by campers.  
  
Jesse pulled a brochure out of his pocket containing the safety guidelines. "Listen to this", he grinned. "It says, 'Both black bears and grizzly bears are common in Glacier National Park, and their pursuit of food causes them to seek out food stored by visitors. Soap, toiletries, and scented items may also be an invitation to bears.' Are they serious about this?"  
  
Steve nodded. "Better follow these rules. Those people know what they're talking about. And I can't say I'm in the mood today to wrestle with a bear."  
  
"You could just shoot it." Jesse motioned at the gun Steve had to carry around with him.  
  
"Yeah, but we better don't provoke a situation in which this would be necessary."  
  
"That's true." Jesse kept on reading, and suddenly burst into laughter. "Good that we didn't bring our Chihuahuas with us", he chortled. "Read this!"  
  
He handed the brochure over to Steve and pointed at a paragraph. Steve read, 'Do not leave pets tied up at your campsite. Unattended pets may attract a lion and result in the loss of your pet.' He looked at Jesse, trying to keep a straight face, but then pictured the mentioned Chihuahua pegged at a campsite like the goat in 'Jurassic Park', and a broad grin spread on his face. "Result in the loss of your pet?" he asked. "Who would write something like that?"  
  
Jesse only shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks, and the sight of the young doctor sitting on a rock laughing important body parts of his off was too much for Steve. A low chuckle emerged from deep inside his throat and soon turned into a laughing fit.  
  
When they had calmed down a bit, they decided to move on in order to find a good site to put their tent up before evening.  
  
* * *  
  
When the sunlight started to turn golden, they found another clearing with enough space for their tent. Steve looked around and nodded.  
  
"This place is great", he said. We can stay here for the night, and tomorrow we should have reached the lake."  
  
"Okay, so what now?" asked Jesse. "You pitch the tent, I collect wood for the fire?"  
  
"We pitch the tent, and you won't touch anything around. A campfire wouldn't probably be a good idea here, but I have a little butane burner with me where we can heat our food on."  
  
Jesse regarded the stove Steve took out of his backpack. "This tiny thing?"  
  
"You'll see that it's absolutely sufficient for our purposes. Now help me put this tent up. The night will be warm, but even here, the mosquitoes can be a pest."  
  
It turned out that Steve worked on the tent while Jesse let out more or less helpful comments. When it stood there, a bit crooked but stable, Jesse regarded it proudly.  
  
"Our home for the next week", he beamed.  
  
Steve looked at him in surprise. It almost seemed like Jesse enjoyed this trip so far, something Steve hadn't expected. Maybe he could really convert his friend to a real boy scout.  
  
Or maybe not, he thought when he saw how Jesse tried to fix a nylon string and almost made the whole tent collapse.  
  
"Hey Jess", Steve said to keep him from destroying their shelter. "How about supper?"  
  
"Sounds great. What do we have?"  
  
"I brought a few cans with soup, spaghetti and stuff. We just have to store the empty cans safely."  
  
"Oh yeah, the grizzlies." Jesse looked at Steve's food supply. "Spaghetti?"  
  
"Good choice. Let me open the can - do you think you can handle the gas burner?"  
  
Jesse took the small device and quickly switched it on. "I'm a doctor, Steve. If there's one thing I learned in my chemistry lessons at university, it's how to handle a gas burner."  
  
They heated the spaghetti and ate them directly out of the can. As there wasn't any river nearby, they couldn't wash any dishes, and there was nobody around who could have commented on their strange eating habits.  
  
When they had emptied the can, Steve sighed. "Dessert would be great now", he said.  
  
"Good that you mention it", Jesse grinned. "Switch the burner back on, I've got something for you." With a theatrical gesture, he drew a small plastic bag out if his backpack. "No camping trip without marshmallows", he said cheerfully.  
  
"You want to roast marshmallows over a gas burner?"  
  
"Do you see a campfire here? Now did you want dessert, or didn't you?"  
  
Steve smiled and turned the butane burner on. "Okay, let's see how this works out."  
  
They stuck the marshmallows on small sticks and roasted them over the butane flame. After a while, Jesse licked the sugar off his fingers and unpacked his guitar.  
  
"A fire and marshmallows", he said, "now we only need a little bit of music."  
  
"No children's campfire songs, please", Steve said.  
  
Jesse grinned. "Don't worry." He tuned the e-string which seemed to change its pitch each time he left the guitar unguarded for a minute, and started to pick some notes to warm up his fingers.  
  
When he was content with the feeling of the instrument, the casual strumming turned to a melody that was familiar to Steve.  
  
"Yesterday", Jesse started to sing, and with a shrug, Steve joined him. "All my troubles seemed so far away…"  
  
Steve had to admit that Jesse knew quite a few great songs, and even though their campfire was barely more than a small blue flame, he felt reminded of the camps he had spent his summer at when he had been a boy.  
  
* * *  
  
"Amanda, good that you could come so soon."  
  
Amanda stood in front of Mark's desk, giving him an asking look. "What is it, Mark?"  
  
"I received the results of the police investigation. They have checked on the four people who might be suspects in the railroad killer case. It's one female person and three males, but I think we can exclude one of the 'men'."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's a six-year old boy who lives with his father. His parents are divorced, and it looks like they let him travel alone when he visits his mother on the weekends."  
  
Amanda took a chair and sat down. "Okay, and what about the others?"  
  
"Everyone of them could be our killer. The woman's name is Catherine Baker. She is 35 years old and works as a bookkeeper, resident in San Francisco. Then we have the two men: Howard Raven, 46 years old and a salesman from Ogden, Utah; and Colin Jackson, a 28-year old salesman from LA who served in the Army for three years."  
  
"Two salesmen?"  
  
Mark nodded. "Who else would travel so much?"  
  
"You're right. So, are the police observing them?"  
  
"This is a bit difficult. Except from their being on the trains, the police have no clues indicating that those people might be involved with the murders, and therefore no justification to observe them. Nevertheless, they're keeping track as to where the three are moving."  
  
"Do you have any information on where they are now?" Amanda wanted to know.  
  
"Whether you believe it or not, they are all sitting in different Amtrak trains right now. Baker and Raven are still in California, Jackson is on his way to the Glacier National Park in Montana. He should be somewhere in Utah right now."  
  
"Glacier? Isn't that where Steve and Jesse wanted to go camping? Maybe we should call Steve up. He could observe Jackson."  
  
Mark shook his head. "There's a reason why the newspapers call him the railroad killer. Once Jackson has left the train, we probably needn't care for him. We have so few clues that we should concentrate on what we have."  
  
"Murders in trains somewhere in California."  
  
"Right."  
  
Amanda clapped her hands. "Well then, when will we get news about Raven and Baker?"  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse went out of the tent and stretched himself in the light of the morning sun. Steve had been right; the sunrise was beautiful.  
  
He yawned and then headed back into the tent.  
  
"Hey Ste-heve!" he called cheerfully. "Get up, lazybones. It's already morning, and you wanted to get to Bowman Lake today."  
  
Steve groaned and turned to his other side. "Leave me alone."  
  
"What do I hear? Mr. 'Most Beautiful Sunrise in the World' wants to stay in bed?" Jesse's tone became even happier. "Can't wait to tell Mark and Amanda."  
  
"Okay, okay. I'll get up if you just shut up. Your good mood is unbearable at this time of the day." Steve crawled out of his sleeping bag, left the tent and took a deep breath. Immediately, his drowsiness seemed to fall off, and a content smile spread on his face. "Ah, camping", he said.  
  
Jesse grinned. "This change of mood is usually treated with medication", he mentioned.  
  
"Just cut it out. Now let's pull up stakes, wilderness is calling."  
  
* * *  
  
Colin Jackson looked out of the window. Trees seemed to fly past the train as it approached the station only a few miles west of the Glacier National Park.  
  
He smiled. A few days off were exactly what he needed. The past few weeks had been strenuous, and some time in the mountains would help him to relax.  
  
Beside that, his work had attracted way too much attention recently. Although he had restricted himself to the state of California in order not to have the FBI involved in this, the newspapers had exaggerated terribly. There had to be killers out there who had murdered far more people than he had, but right now, he was regarded as the biggest monster alive. Although this honour flattered him, it somehow impeded his work. Maybe he would have to change his way of operating, but that was something he would care for when he faced the problem.  
  
He looked up as an old lady who had been sharing the compartment with him tried to reach her luggage in a net above the seats.  
  
"Please, let me help you", he said and stood up. With his 6 feet 5 inches, he could easily take the two small cases, and he placed them on the ground. "There you go", he said in a kind voice.  
  
"Thank you", the woman replied gratefully. Her grey eyes glistening behind thick glasses, white hair gathered in a knot, she reminded Colin of his grandmother. She had served chocolate cake each time he had visited her.  
  
Oh God, how he had hated chocolate cake.  
  
"You're welcome", he replied with a friendly smile. "That's a matter of course, Ma'am. I'm always glad to help."  
  
With another grateful look, the old lady took her luggage and headed towards the doors as the train slowed down.  
  
Colin reached up and took his own backpack. It contained everything he needed for some very amusing days in the Glacier National Park.  
  
* * *  
  
Whistling a happy tune, he hiked along a trail that led through the woods and towards Bowman Lake. A Park Ranger came towards him, and Colin greeted him.  
  
The Ranger nodded friendly and lifted a hand to his hat.  
  
When he had passed, Colin hesitated. He turned around and watched the man. He had about his size and stature, and this uniform looked really comfortable. What better opportunity to change his way of operating?  
  
Colin quickly glanced around, but saw nobody nearby except for the lone Ranger. With a few fast steps, he approached him and tapped on his shoulder.  
  
"Excuse me, Sir. May I ask you something?"  
  
* * *  
  
Steve motioned around, his eyes gleaming with excitement.  
  
"Isn't this a gorgeous sight?" he asked.  
  
Jesse nodded in silent admiration. The Bowman Lake offered spectacular scenery, a large blue surface reflecting the images of the surrounding woods and mountains.  
  
Steve took a deep breath. "What about some fish for dinner?"  
  
Jesse gave him a suspicious glance. "Fish from the lake?"  
  
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"  
  
"Nothing - if you gut it."  
  
Steve laughed. "Don't tell me that you as a surgeon can't pull some bowels and bones out of a fish?"  
  
Jesse shrugged. "Usually, I put the bones and bowels back inside", he said. "If you want someone to pull them out, you should have taken Amanda with you."  
  
"Probably", grinned Steve, "but she wouldn't have thought of the marshmallows."  
  
They strolled along the shore until they found some big rocks forming a kind of pier, ideal for fishing.  
  
"Before we try to catch something, shall we go into the woods and see if we find a good place to pitch up the tent?" Jesse wanted to know.  
  
Steve nodded. "You start to think in the right way", he answered. "We should have a place to go when we caught something, else we'll fumble around with the fish and tent and all that at a time."  
  
They made sure they'd find the rocks again, and moved through the wood until they found a good place. This time, the tent was pitched with less effort and looked better than the night before.  
  
"Hey Jesse, I'll go and search some dead branches for fishing-rods. Why don't you take the things you really need out of your backpack, leave the rest here and already go back to the lake? Here's a hook and a fishing- line; I'll join you with the bait."  
  
"Okay." With a relieved sigh, Jesse dropped his guitar and the heavy backpack to the ground and opened it. The day had been warm, and he had packed his jacket away, but now that the sun descended, he decided to take it with him. It was rather thin, but for a few hours of sitting on a rock, it would do. He quickly checked if he still had his army knife in his pocket. When he felt the solid plastics around the folded blades, he smiled. Since MacGyver had given it to him during their memorable adventure with the HIT lunatics, he had used it so often that he couldn't remember what it had been like without it. After short consideration, he grabbed a few chocolate bars. After all, they might wait for fish to bite for hours.  
  
"You ready?" Steve asked.  
  
"Yup." He took the line and hook Steve handed him and set out towards the lake.  
  
Steve left his stuff where it was and started searching for straight branches on the ground they could use as fishing-rods. From what seemed only a few feet away, he suddenly heard a cracking sound. Remembering the warnings concerning bears and lions, he carefully sneaked towards the source of the sound. He had his hand on the butt of his gun, just in case he might really stumble over a dangerous and hungry animal.  
  
When he stepped through the underbrush and entered another small clearing, he noticed that there was no wild animal around. Instead, a Park Ranger was standing there, relieving himself against a tree. This seemed absurd to Steve, but he soon realized that the Ranger possibly didn't have a choice. As he didn't want to embarrass the young man, he turned around and wanted to go back to the tent, but the Ranger had already noticed him.  
  
"Good afternoon", he called and turned around, closing the zipper of his pants.  
  
"Good afternoon", Steve greeted him.  
  
The man looked like the image Steve had of a typical Park Ranger. Standing his 6 feet 5 inches, he was considerably taller than Steve, strongly built but with narrow shoulders. Bright blue eyes glistened from a young, long face with a strong chin, straight nose and broad mouth. His hat covered light brown hair, which reached down to his chin.  
  
"Are you collecting wood for a fire?" the Ranger asked, pointing at the branch Steve was holding in his hand.  
  
"No, I wanted to go fishing", Steve replied.  
  
"Hmm." The Ranger stood there, hands in his pockets, on tiptoe and then dropping back on his soles.  
  
Steve regarded him curiously. This man just didn't have the attitude he expected a Park Ranger to have. Oh well, it was difficult nowadays to find good and ambitioned personnel.  
  
The young man noticed Steve's look. "What is it?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering what you're doing here so far from the Station."  
  
"I received a notification of a Mountain Lion sighting, and I wanted to make sure that nobody's in danger." He motioned towards the walkie-talkie he wore attached to his belt.  
  
Steve frowned. Standing only two yards away from the Ranger, he could see that the device wasn't even switched on. If this man took his duty seriously, he would leave it on all the time - after all, there might be an important call.  
  
He slowly let his hand move towards his pistol, trying to act casual.  
  
"Ah", he said. "So, did you see a lion?"  
  
The Ranger slowly scratched his back. "No, but I expected that. Many people don't recognize animals when they see them, and even if there was a lion here, it's probably somewhere else now."  
  
Steve hadn't even seen the man move when he realized that a gun was pointed at him. The pistol must have been hidden behind the other one's back.  
  
"I knew it", Steve hissed.  
  
"I bet you did. That's why I'm the one holding a gun right now while you don't have a chance to draw yours." The man waved the pistol and motioned Steve to turn around. "You said you wanted to go fishing. Well, you will go - as bait."  
  
Steve started walking, his arms loosely at his side, still holding the branch. As he went, he carefully listened to every sound behind him. When he heard the bogus Ranger's steps close behind, he spun around and swung the branch like a club.  
  
He hit the man's arm, and the gun flew through the air, dropping somewhere in the underbrush. Struck by surprise, Steve's opponent stared at his empty hand for a moment, long enough for Steve to draw his own gun. He hadn't even cocked it when the man had recovered from the shock and attacked him.  
  
Both struggling to get the pistol, they rolled on the ground. Suddenly a shot went off, the crack cutting the natural sounds off like a knife.  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse was sitting on a rock that had been warmed by the day's sun and looked after the stones he skimmed over the water. Now this was a camping trip he thoroughly enjoyed. No rain, no poisonous animals or other adversities.  
  
All of a sudden, he heard a sound that didn't fit into the surrounding at all. If he hadn't known better, he would have sworn it had been a gunshot.  
  
Then the brochure they had made fun of came to his mind. Had Steve encountered a wild animal he'd had to shoot at?  
  
"Steve?" he called. "Hey Steve, are you alright?"  
  
When no reply came, he clutched his last few stones, stood up and ran towards the spot where he supposed the source of the shot. "Steve!" he shouted, now really worried what might have happened to his friend.  
  
* * *  
  
Although he fully concentrated on the fight with the man who apparently was well trained and seemed to be a superior opponent, Steve heard Jesse's calls echoing through the woods.  
  
"Jesse, stay away!" he shouted on the top of his voice. If Jesse came too close, a shot might accidentally hit him.  
  
"Steve, what's up?" he heard the familiar bright voice.  
  
"Stay away, don't come -" In this instant, another shot went off, and the bullet rushed somewhere between the trees. A scream of pain sounded from maybe fifty feet away, and with desperate certainty, Steve knew that it had been Jesse.  
  
With his strength renewed by red anger, he managed to wrestle the young man down to the ground. "Jesse, run if you can", he shouted. Hoping that the bullet hadn't hurt Jesse to seriously, he pushed his enemy down and yelled, "run, and get help! Fast!"  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse had barely entered the woods when he heard Steve's call to stay away. Of course he didn't obey but followed the voice, wondering what trouble Steve might be in.  
  
All of a sudden, something struck his left arm, and in the next instant, he heard a shot. He screamed in pain and surprise, looking at the small red stain that appeared on the left sleeve of his shirt.  
  
After he had overcome the shock, he realized that the piercing pain had to have been caused by a bullet. For some reason, he remembered that bullets fly with supersonic speed, and he caught himself calculating the distance of the shot when he noticed that the shock made him think of trivial things.  
  
He shook his head to clear his mind, and focused on the fighting noise he heard not far away. Then he heard Steve's voice again, telling him to run.  
  
"Run and get help! Fast!"  
  
Jesse still didn't think about running away, but then two shots sounded, and an angry howl filled the air. Jesse saw a figure standing between the trees, and he knew it wasn't Steve. The man pointed something into his direction, and again, bullets struck the stems around him.  
  
In sheer panic, Jesse started to run, not caring into which direction. He stumbled over roots, brushes and rocks, falling more often than he cared to count. His thoughts raced, and horrifying ideas whirled in his mind.  
  
Who had this stranger been, and what had he been doing in the woods? Most importantly, what about Steve? It was clear that they had been fighting, and after the last two shots, only the other man had been standing.  
  
Jesse didn't know how long he had been running when another root caught his foot, and he fell on the rocky ground. Sharp-edged stones cut into his palms when he hit the ground, and a sharp pain shot through his ankle.  
  
Gasping for air, he laid face down on the stones, shivering so badly that he couldn't even sit up.  
  
"Okay, calm down", he said to himself. "Cool it, take a deep breath. Panic is something you absolutely can't use when you're in the woods with a madman around."  
  
Concentrating on his own voice, he managed to get a grip on himself. Still panting, he got on his hands and knees, and then dropped on his rear, leaning against a trunk.  
  
The doctor in him took over, and Jesse started to examine himself, the worse injuries first. He opened his shirt and looked at the wound on his arm. To his relief, it wasn't even a real flesh wound, barely more than a scratch. It had stopped bleeding, and he decided not to clean it as he'd only cause more bleeding without a chance to really disinfect the wound. Next, his ankle. It had swollen a bit, but it was obviously not broken. When Jesse stood up and tried to put his weight on the foot, he felt an unpleasant, but not unbearable pain. His hands worried him more than his ankle because some of the cuts were really deep. To stop the bleeding and keep dirt from entering the cuts, he tore some stripes off his shirt and tightly wound them around his hands.  
  
When he had done this, he felt a lot better. Now it was time to think about what was to do. Summing the situation up, the most urgent things to do were finding Steve and getting help. He decided that he first had to find Steve. If he found a Ranger Station, he still wouldn't be able to describe where Steve was, as he had admittedly completely lost his way.  
  
When he realized this, he also noticed that it was almost dark, and the temperature was dropping considerably. Last night it hadn't been so cold, but it seemed like there was a storm about to hit the Park. A chilly wind howled through the forest, but at least it wasn't raining.  
  
Jesse checked what he had with him. On his run through the woods, he had lost his jacket somewhere, but he still had the knife and some chocolate bars in his pockets. He felt a bit dizzy, so he unwrapped one of the bars and chewed on it, trying to figure a way to follow his own trace back.  
  
* * *  
  
Steve had no idea if Jesse had followed his order to flee, he didn't even know if he had been able to.  
  
He managed to grab the pistol and blindly pulled the trigger. The silenced sound of the shot showed him that the bullet had eaten flesh. Another shot went off, harmlessly hitting a tree.  
  
Although he had been hit by a bullet, the other man fought with undiminished strength and violence. Suddenly, he lifted his right hand that was holding a big stone. Steve couldn't dodge the blow, and it struck him on the left side of his face.  
  
The force of the hit made him roll aside, and too late he noticed that they had been fighting on the edge of a rocky slope. He grabbed for a hold, but suddenly the trees seemed to step aside to watch him tumble down the hill.  
  
Not really thinking about his actions, he curled up to a ball to present as little surface to the rough ground as possible. On the other hand, he even accelerated his fall by doing this, and he rolled downhill like an oversized baseball on a gravel road.  
  
* * *  
  
Colin was surprised and angry about the fierce resistance of his victim. The man had looked strong, but he hadn't expected him to be so fast. After he had beaten the gun out of Colin's hand, he had now actually managed to push him to the ground.  
  
A bright voice shouting the name 'Steve' showed him that the man hadn't been alone. This was going to be a bit trickier than he had at first thought.  
  
Still fighting with Steve, he heard how a shot hit the other man who was approaching them, and Steve called his friend to run away.  
  
Oh no, these two men wouldn't tell anybody that they had seen him here. If anybody could identify him, he'd soon be busted, and he was not going to let this happen.  
  
When he felt a hot pain in his waist, he knew that this bastard had shot at him, and howling with anger, he grabbed a stone from the ground and struck his opponent with all his power. Suddenly released, he reached for the gun, stood up and gazed around, searching for Steve's young friend. Soon he spotted him standing about fifty feet away, and fired at him.  
  
The man turned and ran away, obviously not hit by any shot Colin had fired into his direction. With a curse, he stepped back and aimed at the spot where Steve had been, but he had vanished.  
  
Letting out another loud and furious roar, Colin pressed a hand against his waist and stumbled into the woods, determined to find the two men and make sure they'd suffer a slow and painful death.  
  
* * *  
  
Steve opened his eyes. Above him, he saw leaves and grass, a few rocks and a little spot of moss. Then his mind cleared, and he realized that he was lying flat on his belly.  
  
With an angry moan, he rolled on his back and blinked a few times. Slowly up and down began to shift into their correct positions, and Steve dared to sit up.  
  
He touched the side of his face where the rock had struck him. When he removed the hand from his face, it was smeared with blood. Steve's left eye was beginning to swell shut, and he took a few wet leaves to cool it. With a silent curse, he checked if his arms, ribs or legs were broken, but he seemed to have been lucky.  
  
Still holding the leaves to his eye, he stood up and looked around. He had obviously fallen down a slope that led to an incision in the mountain on whose ground a small creek rippled, not even deep enough to wet his knees in while standing.  
  
Steve went the few steps to the brook, scooped some water with his hand and washed his face. The cold water on his skin refreshed him, and he started to look for a way to climb back up the slope.  
  
The impostor in the Ranger uniform might still be waiting for him, but there was also Jesse, hurt and helpless.  
  
Slowly Steve made his way up the mountain, holding to roots and small trees which stuck out between the rocks. The incision wasn't very deep, perhaps 30 feet, but it was cumbersome work to climb up the rocks that didn't offer much to cling to.  
  
When he had reached even ground, Steve crouched behind some shrubs and peered at the clearing. Nobody was in sight, neither the assailant nor Jesse.  
  
Slowly he crawled through the underbrush around the clearing, not trusting the seeming peace. After a few minutes, he had reached their campsite, which looked like it had been ravaged by wild animals.  
  
Regarding the remains of their tent, Steve concluded it hadn't been an animal but the guy who had attacked him. This senseless destruction alarmed Steve. The man they had encountered was unpredictable in his rage, although he had looked like he usually planned before he acted.  
  
'Usually' - this word sent shivers down his spine. Killing seemed to be an everyday routine for this man, and Steve didn't dare to picture how many people he might already have murdered. In this moment, he cursed his efforts to be unreachable for the civilized world. His cell phone, every connection to somebody who could help, all left behind at home.  
  
Heaving a worried sigh, Steve started to search the rubble for something he could still need. With a sad glance he regarded the shattered wood, which had once been Jesse's guitar. He found the map they'd taken with them, but the small compass was only a heap of crushed plastics and metal. He was relieved to find his jacket, as it was getting cold. He put it on and filled his pockets with food he found in Jesse's torn backpack. The cans he had brought with him wouldn't be of any use if he couldn't open them. He wound another pullover around his waist, as Jesse didn't have any warm clothes with him. Although he brooded over it for a few minutes, he couldn't remember exactly what Jesse had taken with him when he had left for the lake.  
  
However, now he had to find Jesse and take care that he didn't accidentally bump into the bogus Ranger again.  
  
Relying on the map and his sense of direction, he set out into the forest, always looking for traces Jesse might have left behind.  
  
* * *  
  
"Mark, have you already heard?"  
  
Mark curiously glanced at Amanda who had breathlessly stopped on the corridor beside him. "No, what is it?" he asked.  
  
"They found a dead Park Ranger in the Glacier National Park. Somebody shot him in the head, and his uniform was stolen."  
  
"Oh no." Mark drew a face. "Any trace of the killer?"  
  
"No, although the police and the Rangers mounted a search in the park. The problem is that they are looking for a man in a Ranger uniform who could be anywhere in this large area."  
  
"There's something you're not telling me, Amanda."  
  
Amanda stood there, a gloomy expression on her face. "They found fingerprints on the Ranger's underclothes. The prints belonged to Colin Jackson."  
  
"How did they -?" Mark rubbed his nose. "Ah, his Army files."  
  
"Mark, do you realize what this means?"  
  
Mark nodded. "If not two out of three of our suspects are psychopaths, we have just found out who the railroad killer is."  
  
"I mean, what this might mean for Steve and Jesse."  
  
"I know. But Amanda, as you already said, the Park covers a huge area. It's highly improbable that they encounter him."  
  
Amanda gave Mark a doubting glance. "Have you ever noticed how we all seem to attract trouble? If somebody in the Park meets Jackson, it will be Jesse and Steve."  
  
"But we can't reach them", Mark replied sadly. "Steve insisted on being cut off from anything which had to do with his job, and we don't have a clue where in the Park he is. Except - he wanted to go fishing, and I believe he mentioned Bowman Lake."  
  
"Which means our search area has just become a lot smaller."  
  
"Search area?" Mark looked up. "You want to search for those two and disturb their week off telling them that the railroad killer Steve didn't want to hear a word about is roaming through the forests? Don't you think this would spoil their holidays?"  
  
"Meeting this man in his Ranger disguise would probably spoil their holidays even more", Amanda insisted.  
  
Mark reassuringly laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about them. Right now, they are probably peacefully sleeping in their tent after a great day out in the wilderness. With their field search, the police and Rangers will soon have found Jackson, and when Jesse and Steve return to LA, they will burst with stories about their adventures, and they won't care much about an average serial killer."  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse shivered. A drizzling rain, hardly more than a fine spray, dampened his shirt and trousers and made his hair fall over his eyes. The chilly wind now really drew the warmth out of his body, and he wished he could find some protection from the weather. No, he couldn't just crouch under a tree as long as he didn't know what had happened to Steve.  
  
If he only knew where to look!  
  
Jesse hesitated. Oh boy, what had he been thinking about in the past few hours? Of course he knew where to look! He just had to get back to the shore of the lake and then make his way along it until he found the row of rocks they had planned to fish from.  
  
This was definitely a good idea, but how was he supposed to find the lake? He didn't have a clue in which direction he had been running from the campsite. Hell, since he had left it, he might even have walked in a large circle!  
  
He knew that it was of little use to stumble through the woods when he didn't have an idea where he headed, so he sat down on a rock, resting his twisted ankle.  
  
Now where was the lake? Weren't there any clues which would tell him where to look? Even if there were waves big enough to be heard from a greater distance, the sounds would be covered by the constant rushing of the rain.  
  
Rain. Water. Jesse looked around. He didn't remember having seen a river or at least a brook while they had been hiking through the forest, but if he could find one and follow it, he'd most likely hit the lake sooner or later - or at least he hoped so.  
  
His problem was that it was totally dark, and the clouds in the sky even swallowed the soft light of the half moon. Oh well, he'd just have to keep his eyes open. He stood up, his wet shirt sticking to his body, and limped into the direction which seemed most promising to him.  
  
* * *  
  
Steve checked the map, which stuck in a waterproof cover. He couldn't see much in the little light that made it through the clouds, but if he remembered correctly, a few miles down the shore of Bowman Lake, there had to be a Ranger station. 'Infrequently staffed', read the legend, but right now, any place with a radio would be better than blindly running around in the woods.  
  
He considered calling for Jesse, but he could as well paint a target on his chest. Any noise might be heard by the stranger, and he definitely didn't want to get him on his trace again. One fight a day was already more than he had planned for this trip.  
  
On his way to the shore, Steve saw something yellow lying on the ground. He lifted it up and recognized Jesse's thin but waterproof nylon jacket. Although he was already wet, he would have put it on, but he knew he'd never fit into it. Instead, he tied it around his waist, dropping the pullover.  
  
Then he continued his way and had soon found the shore. There was a trail leading along it, and he accelerated his steps to a jog he would be able to keep all night if necessary.  
  
* * *  
  
When it started to rain, Colin looked up and yelled at the clouds in the sky like he could chase them away only with the power of his voice.  
  
The stabbing pain in his waist had dulled a bit, but he knew he was losing blood. Although he had a feeling he had come very close to one of the men, he needed to stop for a moment and care for the wound.  
  
He took his shirt and undershirt off and folded the undershirt to a small package which he pressed against the wound and fixed with his belt. Then he put his shirt back on, quite content with his work.  
  
He pulled his hunting knife out of its sheath at his calf and raised his head. With a smile he regarded broken branches and trampled underbrush, knowing that his victim didn't have a chance.  
  
* * *  
  
Steve reached the Ranger station sooner than he had expected. It was still black dark, and the rain had increased to a heavy, monotonous splashing.  
  
It was only a little hut; no lights or other signs of an occupant could be seen. Nevertheless Steve approached the station, glancing around in the expectation of a possible ambush attack.  
  
He safely reached the door that was closed and locked. Without hesitation, he tried to force it open, but the door was made of thick wood, and the lock was massive iron.  
  
Steve stepped back and fired twice, not caring for the loud noise he caused now. The lock was blown apart, and he could open the door.  
  
He shook his head, and drops of water flew through the room. Steve looked around and spotted a radio on a desk in the corner. With a few quick steps, he walked over to it and switched it on.  
  
"This is Lieutenant Steve Sloan, does anybody read me?"  
  
For a few seconds, he only heard static noise, then a male voice sounded from the loudspeaker.  
  
"This is Glacier Park headquarters. Who are you, and why are you speaking on our frequency?"  
  
"I'm Lieutenant Steve Sloan from the LAPD. I was hiking here with my friend when we encountered a probably bogus Park Ranger who attacked us and wounded my friend. I'm at the Ranger station south of Bowman Lake, the assailant and my friend are somewhere in the woods around."  
  
"Okay, Lieutenant, got that. You are right, the man was no Ranger. We found one of our men dead, and his uniform was stolen. This man is a dangerous killer; we received word that he might be Colin Jackson, the railroad killer the Californian police have investigated on for quite a few days now."  
  
"The railroad killer?" Steve had almost started laughing. He had gone to a National Park to escape work for a while, but it seemed like work had chosen to follow him.  
  
"Yes. Don't move away from the station, we'll send a car up the Inside North Fork Road to pick you up. There's another station at Polebridge, not even ten miles away. They should have reached you in no more than half an hour."  
  
"I don't want anybody to pick me up", Steve said angrily. "I need reinforcement, people with flashlights and guns who help me find my friend and get this bastard of a killer before he can murder yet another person."  
  
"Lieutenant, this is not a good idea. There's a heavy storm approaching the western part of the Park, and it's still three hours before the sun rises. Even with a helicopter, you wouldn't possibly find anybody out there. We had search teams out, but they had to come back."  
  
Steve stared at the radio. "Okay, pal", he growled. "If you and your fellow boy scouts don't have the guts to pursue a psychopath who killed one of your men, I'll do it on my own. With your permission, I'll borrow some of your equipment from this station."  
  
"I would recommend you just stay where you are and wait for us to get you", the voice insisted. "The backcountry can be dangerous even by the light of day, but under these circumstances, it would be suicide to go out on your own."  
  
"I'm sorry, but there is somebody who needs my help right now, and I won't let him down."  
  
Steve ignored the pleading voice from the loudspeaker and started to search for things he would need. He took a small backpack and filled it with what he found - a first-aid kit, a flare pistol, and a GPS device. He also found a strong flashlight which he kept in his hand, and a hunting knife in a sheath that he attached to his belt. Then he donned a warm and waterproof jacket and packed Jesse's jacket into the backpack.  
  
Feeling each and every of his bones ache, he pressed his face to the pane of the only window. The cold eased the pain in his left eye and cheekbone, and with renewed spirits, he left the station to search Jesse.  
  
* * *  
  
Mark was on his round when his pager went off. He sighed and went to the next phone.  
  
"Dr. Sloan? This is Captain Newman. Could you please tell me if your son went to the Glacier National Park for his week off?"  
  
"Yes, but why this?"  
  
"The Park Rangers called us and told us that one of our men, namely Lieutenant Sloan, had contacted them from a Ranger station reporting that he and his friend had met the man who killed the Park Ranger today."  
  
"The railroad killer? Oh my God. Are they alright?"  
  
"Steve didn't mention that he had been injured, but he said that Jesse had been wounded during a fight, and that he and the killer were still somewhere in the forest."  
  
"Don't tell me that Steve -"  
  
"- left the station to look for Dr. Travis", Newman finished the sentence.  
  
"Is there anyone to back him up?"  
  
"The Rangers hesitated to send their people out as there's a storm developing, but for all I know, they will probably send a rescue team."  
  
"What about the FBI?"  
  
"Are on their way. Don't worry too much, they will be fine."  
  
"If Jesse is injured, that's not exactly what I'd call being fine", Mark replied. "I'll be on the next plane."  
  
"I already checked the flight schedule, and the next flight to Kalispell leaves LAX at 10am, that is, in about 7 hours. No chance to get you there any earlier. I will keep you updated on everything I hear from Glacier headquarters or the FBI. Promise that you stay at the hospital so that I can reach you with any news."  
  
"Yes", Mark said reluctantly. "But if I don't hear anything, I'll be aboard the next plane to Kalispell."  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse couldn't believe his luck. After what seemed hours of stumbling through thick underbrush, he had found a watercourse. His only problem was that he now had to find a way to get out of the water again.  
  
With powerful strokes, he tried to swim in a right angle to the current, and soon his hands touched roots reaching into the stream. Clinging to them, he gasped for air, and then pulled himself up on the shore.  
  
Now that he was completely soaked, the rain didn't bother him anymore. The cold did cause him trouble, though. He clenched his teeth just to make them stop chattering, and he jumped up and down with his arms crossed in front of his chest to make the blood circulate.  
  
So what should he do now? He knew from the map that most lakes in the Park were merely widened parts of the creeks, and as he didn't know whether he was north or south of Bowman Lake, he decided to walk downstream as the creek to all of his knowledge led towards one of the main roads.  
  
Minutes later, the creek widened considerably, and Jesse concluded that this was Bowman Lake again. He sighed and wiped some wet strands of hair from his eyes. This meant he had an 8-miles walk along the lake to do before he reached the road.  
  
But he didn't have a choice. He had to get help, as he wouldn't find Steve in the dark, on his own and with more trees around than he'd ever seen in one place.  
  
Not knowing that he instinctively did the same as Steve, he trotted along the shore in a moderate pace.  
  
* * *  
  
Colin could easily follow the trace the man had left behind. He reckoned that he was after Steve's friend - what had he called him? Jesse -, as he had gone into the direction where the scream had come from after the shot.  
  
He wondered why he hadn't already caught up with him. Although Colin was injured, he hadn't slowed down in the past hours, and he started to doubt that the other man was as seriously wounded as he had thought.  
  
He stopped when he noticed that he was standing right in front of a narrow river. If he hadn't been so careful, he would probably have fallen into the water, and from some snapped off branches he concluded that Jesse had been less lucky.  
  
He uttered a curse. If this bastard had drowned, he would personally fish him out of the water, revive him, and kill him again. All this trouble for nothing? No, he would have his fun tonight.  
  
Colin thought for a moment, then he followed the current downstream as this was the direction where he'd most likely find the man. When he found more broken branches and a deep track in the mud on the shore, his mood immediately brightened.  
  
"Gotcha", he grinned. The rain hadn't even completely filled the footprints; the man could only have a lead of a few minutes, maybe half an hour, and Colin was positive that he would follow the shoreline until he found a road.  
  
"Time to play", Colin whispered, a thin and crazy smile twisting his face.  
  
He now had completely forgotten about the wound at his waist. With big strides, he marched along the trail, driven by the prospect to ram his knife into living flesh tonight.  
  
* * *  
  
Steve switched the flashlight on and went up the track leading along the western shore of Bowman Lake. If Jesse hadn't completely lost his head, he had tried to find the lake, and then followed the shoreline to the next Ranger station - which was the one he was just coming from.  
  
If he walked up the shore, he'd meet Jesse somewhere on the way. Or the killer. Either way, a confrontation would solve a lot of problems.  
  
* * *  
  
The clouds had become even thicker, and it now was completely dark. Jesse wondered how long he'd been jogging along the shore, and suddenly he remembered that he was still wearing his watch. It was funny how these circumstances had made him forget about the simplest things. He pressed a small button, and a cool blue light illuminated the dial. It was quarter past three in the morning, about three hours before sunrise.  
  
His breath forming white clouds in the air, he continued his way. The wind had freshened up considerably, and it was toilsome to keep his speed. With bowed head and clenched fists, he pressed against the storm and forced himself to move faster.  
  
* * *  
  
Steve took the GPS device out of his backpack and checked his position with the map. He had moved about one and a half miles up the shore in the past twenty minutes. He remembered having seen an emergency button on the device that sent an alarm signal out containing information on the exact position of the person carrying it, and he intended to use it once he had found Jesse.  
  
Glad to have the wind blowing from behind, he pulled the hood of his jacket deeper into his face.  
  
* * *  
  
Colin's movements became tense; he raised his head like he had caught scent of his prey.  
  
Hadn't there been a movement somewhere down the trail? He spurted for a few seconds until he was sure that it hadn't only been an animal. No, this was the guy, Jesse, jogging down the path in a tired trot. He looked very exhausted, and his clothes were torn, but he didn't seem to be injured badly.  
  
Good, this meant he'd be fully aware of what happened when Colin killed him.  
  
He couldn't just approach him from behind. If he accidentally turned around, he'd immediately see his pursuer, so Colin moved sideward into the forest and sneaked after Jesse through the shrubs and underbrush. The knife lay ready in his left hand.  
  
* * *  
  
When he heard a snap in the wood only a few feet away, Jesse spun around, half expecting to be attacked by a Mountain Lion.  
  
The trail was empty, and he didn't see anything around but the glistening lake on one side and the black forest on the other. Cautiously he moved on, glancing over his shoulder every few steps.  
  
Suddenly something giant crashed through the branches and onto the trail. No, not something. Somebody.  
  
Jesse stood paralysed when he recognized the man in the Ranger uniform who had shot at him, holding a large knife in his hand. A wild grin on his face, he blocked Jesse's way.  
  
"Heya, Boy Scout", the man said. "I believe we need to talk."  
  
There was a tiny gap in between two clouds, and the blade reflecting the short shimmer of moonlight told Jesse that talking wasn't exactly what the man had in mind.  
  
Without trying to start a conversation, Jesse turned on his heel and ran.  
  
* * *  
  
Colin enjoyed seeing the panic in the eyes of his vis-à-vis when he recognized him. His victim spun around and darted up the path, and Colin uttered a rough laugh.  
  
The hunt had begun.  
  
* * *  
  
Breathing heavily, Jesse ran along the trail. He was a fast runner, but he was exhausted, and his ankle didn't pardon being treated so roughly. With each second, he heard the heavy steps of the assailant come closer.  
  
After a short glance over his shoulder, he cut to the left and dived into the bushes. Quickly getting on his feet again, he forced his way through the woods, not caring for the branches that scratched his face and arms.  
  
After about 50 yards, he stumbled over a rock and fell on his hands and knees. Before he could stand up, something heavy hit him right between his shoulder blades, and he was pressed to the ground.  
  
When he turned his head and looked up, he saw the stranger towering above him, one foot on Jesse's back like on a bagged deer.  
  
"Hello, my friend", said the man. "Haven't you heard what I said? We need to talk, and I believe we'll have a lot to tell each other." He lifted his foot and seized Jesse by his shirt. "Get up, pal."  
  
Jesse stared at the man defiantly, shaking with fear and cold. "What are you going to do to me?" he asked.  
  
"First of all", came the answer, "I'll make sure you won't run away." He turned him around and put a headlock on him, and with a violent movement, he knocked Jesse's head against a trunk.  
  
* * *  
  
When Jesse woke up, his hands and feet were tied with nylon strings. He sat leaned against the stem of a tree, and when his sight cleared, he saw the tall stranger sitting on a rock in front of him.  
  
"I think we can talk now", the man said. "I understand your name is Jesse, and as I don't want to be impolite, and you won't tell anybody anyway, I can tell you that my name is Colin."  
  
Jesse remained silent. He didn't see any use in talking to this lunatic.  
  
"You know", Colin continued like he hadn't expected an answer, "I have a feeling that your friend Steve might get me into a lot of trouble. You know, if he goes to the real Rangers or to the police and identifies me, they'll soon find out that I'm not as innocent as I look. To be honest, I have no idea what to do to keep him from doing so as I don't even know where he is. So", he sighed, "I'll have as much fun as I can with you. After all, I don't know how long I'll have to go underground."  
  
"You don't have a chance", Jesse burst out. "Steve is a police officer, and I bet they are combing this area right now. They'll find us sooner than you think. Don't want to be you when they arrive."  
  
"Maybe, but if I were you, I'd rather worry about myself now." Colin stood up, stretching his fingers. "It's cold, it's raining, your friend pumped a bullet in my belly, and you can tell I'm really, really pissed off."  
  
Without a warning, he shot his fist off right into Jesse's face. "Somebody", he said coldly, "is gonna pay for this."  
  
* * *  
  
Steve had now made about half the distance to the other end of the lake. Helplessly, he looked around. What if Jesse hadn't found the way to the shore? If he was injured and lying somewhere, unable to move at all?  
  
At least Steve could give him a sign, even if this also meant showing Jackson where he was. He had quite a few bones to pick with the killer, and this time, he'd be better prepared.  
  
Steve counted the cartridges for the flare pistol. He had packed five of them, this meant he could easily sacrifice one now. Quickly, he loaded the pistol, pointed it to the sky and pulled the trigger.  
  
The missile shot up high in the air, leaving a red trail behind and exploding in a small red cloud after it had reached the peak of its curve.  
  
Now in a slow pace, he went further up the shore, pricking his ears for any call or other sound besides the howling of the wind.  
  
* * *  
  
Jesse swallowed blood and coughed. Water ran down his face, washing the blood from the wounds Colin had so elatedly caused.  
  
"As much as I like treating your face", Colin said, "it's getting a little boring. How about some creative art work now - let's say, carving?" He pulled his knife out of the sheath and regarded it. "Knives are amazing", he said, softly running the flat blade along Jesse's cheek. "You can kill people with one clean stab. No mess, no noise, just a quick thrust. On the other hand, there's no other weapon you can work so accurately with. A scratch here, a cut there - you wouldn't believe how much skin you can peel off somebody before he dies."  
  
When Colin turned the knife and moved it down to Jesse's chest, Jesse strained his muscles and kicked the man with both feet. Colin stumbled backward, dropping the knife to the ground.  
  
"Uh-oh", Colin said and picked it up. "Big mistake, pal." He raised the knife and stood up, but in this instant, a red trail cut the black blanket of the sky in half. "What the hell -?"  
  
"Yes", whispered Jesse. So Steve had really come back with help and was now trying to give him a sign. While Colin was still distracted, he called, "Steve! Here! Help!"  
  
Colin turned towards him. "Shame", he hissed. "Good to see that your friend has come back, but I'm afraid I'll have to kill you right now."  
  
Helplessly, Jesse could only stare at the man as he slowly came closer with the blade's tip pointing at his throat, when suddenly a giant shadow appeared behind Colin.  
  
"Steve?" Jesse blinked and tried to identify the person who had so unexpectedly emerged from the uniform black woods.  
  
"Come on", Colin laughed scornfully, "that trick's a bit old, or what do you think?"  
  
Jesse ignored him as the giant figure came closer. A horrified moan escaped him when he realized what he was looking at. "Oh God, get away", he lowly said to Colin.  
  
Colin gave him an incredulous look. "You don't seriously think you can take me in by that", he said, really surprised.  
  
Then a deep growl sounded behind him.  
  
Colin hesitated. He slowly turned around and froze when he saw the huge Grizzly standing on his hind legs right in front of him.  
  
"Holy shit", he whispered, raising his hunting knife again.  
  
"Better don't move", Jesse said quietly. "He might take it as a sign of aggression." At the same time, he wondered why he was giving advice to the man who was trying to kill him.  
  
He needn't have worried about this, as Colin didn't follow his advice anyway. He automatically raised an arm in defence and stepped back, and the bear followed his movements.  
  
Jesse gazed at the two and their weird ballet as they circled each other. He didn't dare to say anything else, afraid that he might draw the Grizzly's attention. When standing, the bear was a good deal taller than Colin, and Jesse didn't give the man the slightest chance if it came to a fight.  
  
Something he had read in a backcountry camping brochure came to his mind. When bears attacked at night, they were most likely looking for food, and humans were prey for them.  
  
Then suddenly Colin did something that made the words 'wrong, wrong, wrong' pop up in Jesse's mind, like a big neon sign: he turned and ran.  
  
The Grizzly dropped on all four feet and set after the man. Jesse, still tied to the tree, couldn't see what was happening, but when he heard Colin scream, he decided that he didn't want to.  
  
He heard a thump and the snapping of branches, and Colin's screams of pain echoed through the forest, interrupted by wet scratching and pounding sounds.  
  
If his hands hadn't been tied, Jesse would have covered his ears with them. Now, with no chance to lock the horrifying sounds out, he bowed his head and focused on the physical pain that hammered in his body. Picturing it as burning hot liquid running through his veins, he managed to concentrate only on himself and suppress everything that happened around him.  
  
He sat there, unconsciously swaying back and forth like a child sitting in a dark cellar, until he felt something warm on his face. The touch immediately disturbed his concentration, and puzzled, he opened his eyes.  
  
Inches away, there were the glittering black eyes of the Grizzly, looking directly at him as the bear sniffed at his face. The warm breath of the animal tickled his nose, but he didn't even think of sneezing now.  
  
The blood loss, the chase through the woods, the physical and mental exertion and this shock were too much for Jesse. When the Grizzly nudged his face with his nose, Jesse's heart which had been pounding in his throat seemed to stumble in its racing, and he passed out.  
  
* * *  
  
"Jesse?" About two minutes after he had shot the flare up, Steve had heard distant screams in the woods. Now he was forcing his way towards the source of the sound, even though the voice hadn't sounded like Jesse's at all.  
  
"Jess? Are you there?" He broke through the forest, lighting his way with the flashlight. After a few minutes, the crying was suddenly cut off. Nevertheless, Steve went on, trying to keep his direction.  
  
Suddenly the bright light beam illuminated a small figure limply leaning against the stem of a tree. Steve braked to a full stop. He couldn't see the man's face, but the wet, dark blond hair and the torn shirt were too awfully familiar to him.  
  
Drawing the hunting knife and lighting left and right, he rushed over to Jesse and kneeled down beside him. He quickly checked his pulse, and to his relief he found that Jesse was alive.  
  
He cut the nylon ties with the hunting knife and tried to shift Jesse into a comfortable lying position, then he pressed the emergency button on the GPS device. He didn't dare to pat Jesse's cheeks to bring him back to life as his face looked like it wouldn't bear any more hits, so he just kept on talking to him in a gentle but urgent voice.  
  
"Jess, come on, wake up. What happened? Where's Jackson?"  
  
Jesse opened his eyes, looking at Steve without seeing him. Then, all of a sudden, life returned into his body, and he struggled to get away from Steve, gasping for air.  
  
Steve firmly took him by his shoulders. "Jesse, it's okay. It's me, Jess. Do you hear me? Everything's fine, come on, calm down!"  
  
Jesse's look cleared, and he glanced at Steve, panic still visible on his face. "The bear", he said desperately. "Get away, it killed Colin."  
  
"Jesse, there is no bear here", Steve said reassuringly.  
  
"There was a bear", Jesse insisted in a child-like angry voice. "And this is only your fault! Your stupid idea to go camping! What's this supposed to be? The Meet Your Friendly Psycho Park Ranger Week?"  
  
Jesse was trembling, and Steve noticed that his friend was on the edge of a shock. Quickly he took his jacket off and helped Jesse put it on. Then he remembered having seen him take some chocolate bars with him, and he briefly searched Jesse's pockets. He found one smashed but eatable bar and unwrapped it.  
  
"Here, eat this", he said and gave it to Jesse who unwillingly shook his head.  
  
"Eat it yourself", he replied, turning his head away.  
  
"Okay, we share", said Steve. He wanted Jesse to get some sugar in his blood, and the food would hopefully soothe him a bit. So he took one piece of the crumbled chocolate bar and ate it, forcing another piece into Jesse's mouth.  
  
Jesse chewed, first reluctantly, then a bit faster. The trembling faded, and he relaxed. Leaning against the trunk, he ate the rest of the chocolate.  
  
"Okay now", Steve tried again. "Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
"When this guy started shooting at me, I ran away, and somehow I lost my way. I found the way back to the lake and wanted to follow the trail down to the Ranger station, but then suddenly he was there, chasing me back into the forest. He tied me to a tree, and he started to - beat me up. When he saw your flare, he wanted to kill me, and then - there was this - Grizzly -" His face twisted with pain at the memory, and he embraced himself as he spoke on. "He tried to run away, and the bear went after him, and then there were these - sounds -" He shook his head and grew silent.  
  
"Can I leave you alone for a few seconds?" asked Steve. "I'll be right back, promise. I just want to have a look at something."  
  
Jesse didn't answer, and Steve took the flashlight and followed a trail of snapped branches until he found something only a few yards behind the tree Jesse had been tied to. After a short glance, he decided that Jesse's story hadn't been exaggerated, and he swallowed heavily to keep the tiny bit of chocolate down in his stomach.  
  
Now watching the surrounding woods more cautiously, he went back to Jesse.  
  
"Are you feeling better?" he asked, hoping that his sudden worry about the bear wasn't too obvious.  
  
Jesse nodded. "What were you looking for?"  
  
"Ah, just wanted to see if the Rangers were already here. I set off an emergency signal, and they should be looking for us by now."  
  
"Any sign of the bear?"  
  
"No", Steve lied, "and Jackson's gone, too." Well, at least that was the truth.  
  
"Jackson? Do you mean Colin?"  
  
"Colin? What did I miss? Did you make friends with him?"  
  
Jesse shook his head. "Certainly not. But the bear - I mean, I heard a fight -"  
  
"Don't worry about that now, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Can you walk?" Steve asked. "We should get to the shore, because if they search us with a helicopter, they'll never find us beneath these trees."  
  
Jesse grinned. "If I could run all night, I should make the few yards to the lake easily."  
  
"Well then, let's go." Steve helped Jesse up, and together they slowly moved towards the trail. Steve kept the beam of the flashlight on the ground, making sure he didn't accidentally point it in the wrong direction and illuminated Jackson's remains.  
  
They dropped on the trail, and Steve loaded the flare pistol. After shooting a missile up in the sky, he put another cartridge in the barrel. Just in case. After all, the gun could also be used as a weapon.  
  
Soon they heard the flapping sound of an approaching helicopter over the storm and rain, and a searchlight panned over the woods. Steve stood up and waved the yellow jacket he took out of the backpack.  
  
The chopper stayed in the same place for a few seconds, the searchlight pointing at the two figures on the trail, then it moved to a spot where the trail was wide enough to land. Two men jumped out and came towards Steve and Jesse.  
  
"Lieutenant Sloan?" one of them asked Steve. He nodded. "What about Jackson?" the other continued.  
  
Steve motioned towards the woods. "You can collect him over there", he said after a short glance at Jesse who didn't hear him.  
  
The man went back to the helicopter, and another man in Ranger uniform jumped out. Together they went into the forest.  
  
The third man was already guiding Jesse to the helicopter, and Steve joined them.  
  
The two others soon returned, and one of them quickly spoke into a walkie- talkie. He looked at Steve, but he made a clear gesture that they'd talk later.  
  
The chopper took off and headed for the Park headquarters to drop them there.  
  
* * *  
  
"Ah, home." Steve dropped on a chair and ran his hand over the tabletop.  
  
Mark smiled. "If you call the BBQ Bob's your home, I must have done something wrong with the furnishings of the beach house."  
  
"No, but I can't wait to see a big steak with fries coming my way."  
  
"Steak and fries? No problem." Mark stood up and headed for kitchen to give them the order.  
  
Amanda entered the Bob's, followed by a limping Jesse.  
  
"Jess, what are you doing here?" Steve asked instead of a welcome.  
  
"Nice to see you too", Jesse replied with a grin. "If I'm not mistaken, I believe I wanted to eat something here."  
  
"Shouldn't you stay in the hospital?"  
  
"All I needed was a good night's sleep. No reason to keep me in bed."  
  
"Good to hear that", Steve replied. "Get seated, you two. It's lunch time."  
  
"Sounds good", Amanda said, and they both sat down.  
  
Mark returned from the kitchen and greeted them. "Now you two", he said to Steve and Jesse, "let's hear your travel report. What you told me yesterday was a bit incoherent."  
  
"There's not much to tell", Steve answered. "We had a good time until we met Jackson. A fight, a shooting, a chase through the woods, the Park Rangers getting us out. Not very exciting."  
  
"You're forgetting about the bear", Amanda mentioned.  
  
Steve gave her a desperate look, but Jesse had caught the remark.  
  
"Hey, give it a break", he said. "What about all this 'there is no bear, you're just too stressed' talk?"  
  
"You know", Steve said sheepishly, "you were so frightened that I thought -"  
  
"You'd tell me on our next trip? Come on, I'm all grown up."  
  
"Okay, okay. I'm really sorry, but yesterday night, it didn't seem too much of a good idea to me to tell you." Steve hesitated. "Our next trip?" he then asked.  
  
"Sure", Jesse said casually.  
  
"And what was that 'it's all your fault, your stupid idea to go camping' talk?"  
  
"Let's just say I was a bit stressed", grinned Jesse. "I heard there are a few marvellous hiking trails in the eastern part of Glacier Park."  
  
"Aw, you know -", Steve drawled, "I thought I'd spend the rest of the week at home, and as for my next holidays, I was planning some days at the beach, maybe the Caribbean. Relaxing in the sun, watching blond beauties stroll by -"  
  
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Jesse teased him. "Roaming through the woods without bounds or limits, no thoughts of work, that's what you said."  
  
"I'm really glad to see that your hands and ankle don't allow you to set off right now", Steve sighed.  
  
"Which means you'll come along?" Jesse wanted to know, an evil grin sparkling in his eyes.  
  
"We'll see. You'll have to think of better arguments to drag me with you."  
  
"If he doesn't, I believe we can come up with quite a few", Mark smiled.  
  
"This is a conspiracy", Steve complained.  
  
"Just enjoy your steak, son. You'll have a different opinion about this once your scratches have healed."  
  
Steve stuck his fork into some fries that had been served with the steak and regarded them. In no way would Jesse make him go on such a trip again.  
  
Although - the hike to the lake hadn't been that bad, and they hadn't even had the time to catch some fish… 


End file.
